


How Many Licks?

by Kass



Series: The Sentinel fanworks [21]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP, Poptart, tootsie pop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-18
Updated: 2008-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:17:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair eats a tootsie pop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Licks?

**Author's Note:**

> This is what Justine calls a "pop-tart"—all sweetness, no nutritional value, but nice if you're in the mood for that kind of thing. Written with thanks to my coworker who gave me a tootsie pop at work, who had no idea what she was about to unleash.

"Jim. Want a pop?"

Blair's hand held two sticks, each with a paper-wrapped bulb on the end. Jim wrinkled his nose. "No thanks, Sandburg. Not hungry. I can taste the artificial flavoring from here."

"Suit yourself, man," Blair said, tossing one into his backpack and unwrapping the other as he sat down with his book. The pop was red--candy-apple red, fire-engine red, a red Jim felt sure could have come from nothing natural known to man. Jim looked back down at his magazine.

A moment later a small slurping sound made him look back up. The stick rested between Blair's pursed lips; Jim could see the minute motions of his tongue inside his mouth, circling the candy. Jim felt his dick stirring in the confines of his sweats.

Oh, _behave,_ he thought sternly--as if his dick had ever listened before. He's eating a piece of candy. It's a lollipop, for God's sake.

A flash of red caught his eye: the pop, pulled out of Blair's mouth, glistening. It was marbled like a bowling ball, swirled with tiny streaks, and to Jim's surprise the fake strawberry made his mouth water. Then Blair ran his tongue over his lips: too red, and now his lips glistened, too.

Jim bit the inside of his lip. Maybe pain would distract him. At least Blair seemed immersed in his book; he was unlikely to notice anything besides the book and the tootsie pop. Which he now extended his tongue and licked, like an ice-cream cone.

Or like a dick. Like, say, Jim's dick, currently hard enough to cut diamonds. He shifted in his seat.

It wasn't hard for Jim's mind to modify the picture: Blair's rapt expression, deep breaths, eager tongue. Which was circling the round tip of the lollipop before slipping it back through the O of his mouth. His cheeks hollowed, became concave: he was sucking.

Oh God, he was sucking.

Then he pulled it back out, noticeably smaller now, and gave it a lick. A slow lick. Another slow lick.

"Jesus, Chief, how long you gonna torture that thing?"

His voice was rough with what he hoped sounded like irritation, not mind-numbing desire.

"Hey, gotta hang on to my technique somehow," his partner said, and stuck the sweet back in his mouth.

He didn't. He didn't. He didn't just say what I think he just said. Jim's brain whirred like a broken clock.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice was quiet but there was steel underneath, and he knew Blair heard it, because he put his book down and took the candy from his mouth.

"Don't blow a gasket, Jim," Blair said, still nonchalant, although his shoulders tensed with a hint of nervousness. "It was just a joke."

"Ah," Jim said. There was a pause. Jim took a deep breath and hoped for the best. "So what you're doing to that lollipop isn't technique, it's just dumb luck."

Something in Blair's expression changed. His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly; his eyes were surprised. "Why? You like it?"

It sounded like he was saying, you like me? Which, Jim figured, he was.

Oh, kid, if you only knew.

"A lot," Jim said.

Blair licked his lower lip unconsciously and Jim's cock strained toward him. Blair reached into his book, pulled out the tootsie wrapper, smoothed it with one hand and wrapped the unfinished lollipop, setting it on his book on the floor. He stood, and crossed the few feet to the sofa, and Jim put down his magazine and let his legs fall open, revealing.

Blair made a small sound--surprise? wanting?--and bent to bring his mouth to Jim's. His mouth was hot, and sweet, and tasted like strawberry--fake strawberry, but Jim couldn't have cared less.

After a moment Blair broke away. "I thought you weren't hungry," he said, grinning.

"I lied," Jim said, and shifted to orient himself on the sofa long-ways, and pulled Blair down on top of him. Blair rubbed against Jim's groin, and Jim sighed to feel him hard, too. They were kissing long, messy kisses and Jim bucked up once, twice, before Blair placed a hand on his chest and pulled away. "Wait," he said.

And moved half-down the sofa, and pulled Jim's sweats free, and Jim had to close his eyes because watching this, watching Blair Sandburg take his erection into his mouth, would surely kill him.

And it was good. It was good. It was so good, the press of lips and teeth, the swirl of tongue rubbing just under the head, and Jim groaned. Blair pulled back and just breathed, warm and heavy, and Jim felt his nerve-endings dancing.

"Let's see, what was it you liked?" Blair mused aloud, the vibrations from his voice like a glissando up Jim's spine. "Was it this?" And he suckled at the tip of Jim's cock, and Jim gasped. "Or this?" Pulling back, licking patterns around and around, and Jim groaned. "Maybe it was this," and Blair engulfed him to the edge of his throat, and Jim's whole body seemed to be pouring out the end of his dick as he shuddered.

After a moment Blair let Jim's cock slip out of his mouth, gave a final swallow, moved back up Jim's body and kissed him. God, the taste of himself in Blair's mouth, his bitterness mixing with the aftertaste of the candy.

Jim's body felt limp and delicious, and he reached between them to take hold of Blair's erection and Blair sighed into his mouth. Jim broke away, licked a circle around Blair's ear, murmured "You want to fuck me?"

Evidently Blair did; but it would have to wait, because at the mere mention Blair tensed and bit Jim's shoulder and came in his pants.

Some moments later Blair shifted. "Guess I'd better shower," he said.

Jim grinned. "Not a bad idea."

Blair stood, a little awkwardly. "Man, I'm buying more of those tootsie pops," he said, and turned to walk away.

"Blair?"

He turned.

"You're never eating one of those things in public again," Jim said. Blair lit up like a lightbulb.

"Or what?" he asked, one hand on his hip. Tease.

Jim stood, crossed to him in one large step. Standing over him, right over him, he murmured "or I'll tear your clothes off and fuck you into next week." Blair's flush was gratifying.

"Oh," he said. He paused and his eyes lit up. "When you put it that way...I'm buying a case!"


End file.
